For Her
by StarBlazer124
Summary: "I'll arrange for someone to come take care of you." There was only one man he could call on now to fulfill that promise.
Simon bit his lip, praying that he could maintain some form of control during this crucial moment. His mind felt scattered, but he refused to let that stop him. He dug through his sled's pack, looking for the materials he'd need. "Remember what Marcy told you," he thought aloud. "For Marcy. Have to remember for Marcy."

He could have cheered as he pulled out a thick, deep red book. Its edges were lined with gold, while the center of the cover was decorated with an axe-like crest. A part of the ice man felt guilty for hiding the tome from his young friend, but he knew it was for the best. He couldn't predict how she'd react to the book's content and he was out of options. There was only one person left that could protect Marceline, only one left who was strong enough.

"Let's see...page forty seven, paragraph two...Aha! Here we go!" Returning to the depths of his bag, Simon retrieved a pen and a small carton he had found. "Hopefully it isn't frozen yet." A small shake revealed that, while there were a few icy chunks, the majority of the liquid was still present. "Perfect!"

Simon carried his tools toward the rubble nearby, sitting down in front of a half-destroyed wall. Uncapping the pen, he set his focus on drawing until he finished the smiling face. He could feel the crown try to rob his attention, but he fought back, thinking of the small, frightened voice calling his name. Ripping open the carton, he splashed milk over the sketch. The face absorbed the beverage and began to glow. Simon could feel heat radiate outward, signaling the connection had been made. All that was left was to unlock the door. Picking up the book, Simon read out, "Maloso vobiscum et cum spiritum!"

The air around the drawing crackled with energy as a hole was torn open in front of Simon. Fire roared on the other side and a grey-skinned man stepped out of the portal. The newcomer opened his mouth to speak, but fell quiet upon taking in his surroundings. His demonic eyes widened slightly and his hands dropped to his sides. "Woah..." he whispered. The man had yet to notice Simon. "Oh honey, when you said things were bad, I didn't think you meant...wow."

"Um, Abadeer, I presume?"

Simon's voice jolted him out of his stupor. "Wh-what? Oh! Hey there!" He chuckled awkwardly, smoothing down the lapels of his suit. "That's right! Name's Hunson Abadeer. Say, buddy, mind telling me what's going on around here? I've been away for a while and might have missed a few things." Hunson looked around again and sighed. "Or a lot of things, it seems."

"There was a war," Simon explained. "Bombs were dropped and the radiation mutated almost everything. I wish I could tell you more, but you must understand that we have very little time for reminiscing." Franticly, Simon pointed out into the wind and snow. "Please, I'm begging you! Marceline is alone out there. She needs you!"

The girl's name struck a chord with the demon. "Marcy? How do you know my daughter?" Hunson glared down at Simon as he snarled. "More importantly, if she's in trouble, why aren't you with her?" He took a step closer, furrowing his brow as he sniffed. "...Your magic is consuming you," he stated, upon realization. "You have no control over it."

"Yes, which is precisely why I'm here. I'm more of a threat to Marceline with each passing day, but these ruins are dangerous. She needs someone to take care of her. You're her father and the last shred of family she has. Surely you'll protect her, won't you?" Simon shuddered as he felt the cold grip of insanity creep up on him. "She told me you're the master of the Nightosphere, so you must be strong!"

Hunson simply straightened, expression uncomfortably tense as he turned back to the portal. "Wait!" Simon cried. The demon disappeared behind the cracked wall and Simon tried to run after him, only to find that his numb legs wouldn't move. "Please wait!" he called once more. To his surprise, Hunson returned, a large weapon strapped to his back. "What in blazes...Is that an axe?" Glancing down, Simon noted how the blade matched the illustration on his book's cover.

"Family heirloom," Hunson replied. "Now, you said Marceline was in this direction last you saw her, correct?"

Simon nodded fervently. "Yes, yes! She was due south of here!" He stared up at him, desperation apparent. "Does this mean you'll help her?"

"Of course. Marceline means the world to me. There's no way I'm losing her too." With a snap of his fingers, the gate to the Nightosphere closed behind him. Its warmth quickly vanished, allowing the frigid breeze to whip around the two men. "I'm grateful that you released me," Hunson remarked. "Should I be bringing any messages with me?"

"No. It's best if she doesn't hear from me."

"Very well." The father walked past Simon, beginning his trek through the winter storm. "The best of luck to you, sir. I hope, for your sake, you find a cure for your predicament."

"As do I," Simon mumbled.


End file.
